I have a right to not be stupid.

Just the other day I berated a whole class for cheating when they were doing their computer based training and assessment.

They did not understand why I was livid – it wasn’t the cheating that disappointed me to no end – it was the stubbornness on their side to remain stupid; to not have enough belief in themselves that they could achieve things with their own effort.

Instead, they chose to do the things that were the opposite of what our heroes and people like Kartini had fought for; the right for education, the right to learn and improve their intelligence.

The right not to be stupid.

But it seems that it’s all today’s generation about – stupid yet arrogant, stubborn, ignorant, always looking for shortcuts, and lacking beliefs and integrity within themselves.

The other day I was watching an episode on BBC Knowledge about the Primates, and even their species have pack leaders. So I conclude that despite the advancements humans make, they are still no different than animals. Humans always want to assert dominance and power over their own peers, and they take great joy in knowing that they have the upper hand. Kind of like Blair Waldorf in Gossip Girl – being the richest girl in school, she is undoubtedly the Queen Bee – she reigns over her friends, and in return provides perks for being her betas.

The thing is, I don’t believe friendships work that way. I don’t believe that friendship that can be bought is anything close to the real thing. And how sad is it that some people have such low confidence in themselves to make friends that they have to resolve to using money to win and influence them?

Because strip away the money and what are they? Nothing. No character and not enough personality to make people want to stay and get to know them as real people – instead of the ones who pay for everything because they don’t believe that being themselves is enough to make people like them.

So if you happen to be in a pack of friends who treat each other equally with respect, you should cherish it – because that might be as good as friendship can get nowadays.

Something that you must understand is that in my country, it is quite typical for people to take advantage of other people’s misfortunes – especially when they know they can get some money out of it. So I was prepared for it to happen and I was surprised when it didn’t. Especially in that busy road where it was common for people to get aggravated and tensed. It is also very common to be suspicious of getting helped by strangers as there have been reports of people’s cars broken down and getting helped by random strangers who then managed to steal their belongings from their cars.

Fifteen minutes later, I saw my colleauge’s car approaching and out of reflex I started the engine again and – voila! it started as if nothing happened at all.
Five minutes later I got the car garage to pick it up and have it serviced.

I am now home, safe and sound. But I don’t think I will ever forget the feeling of being helped by total strangers and knowing that there are still good people in this world.

Faith in humanity restored.

I love teaching and I get a sense of personal achievement when seeing the students grow and become more confident.
but several incidents that have happened this year make me question myself:

Am I really good at what I do?

Am I a good teacher?

Do I really contribute anything to the students’ knowledge?

In mid 2012, I found out that an entire class of students of whom I was homerooming were cheating. Well, not all – about 98% of them were. This was a real blow to my confidence and faith, because I really thought they were smarter and wiser than that, and despite cheating the scores were not even improved – they got the wrong source. It wasn’t the cheating part that really disappointed me – it was the fact that they didn’t have any faith in themselves that they would trust answers from an unknown source (apparently it was someone the previous class who had done the same exams) and use them for their final exam, rather than believe in themselves that they were smart enough to pass the exams.

Despite its relevance, the whole thing reflected badly on me. Although I was the only one who felt it, but I felt as if I weren’t a good enough teacher for them. I felt as if I had failed to be a teacher – because in the end the students still didn’t feel confident enough to pass the final exams that they had to turn to desperate measures.

After what happened, I began to lose my motivation. I never thought it would happen to me, as I always consider myself to be a person who really cares about her job, but in the end I kept thinking – why bother? They would all cheat anyway. and maybe the previous classes cheated also. Maybe all that sense of achievement was all in my head. Maybe, I am not a good teacher after all.

I know it’s unfair to generalize  but I can’t help thinking that way. It was bad enough that they cheated, but it was even worse when, upon being found out, they apologized by buying us food and flowers, thinking that our apologies could be bought. The blow was just too much for me.

Then, a couple of months later, I found out that the students who have graduated and are now working onboard the ships said that we never taught them anything useful while they were training with us. The same students who treated me so kindly and called me their “Mom”, who asked to take photos with me and told me they would never forget me and that I was their best teacher.

Perhaps it’s all a lie.

Perhaps, it’s time to find another job.

Am I disappointed?

Well, no. Not really. Sort of, I guess. Disappointed in a way that in ten more years I’ll be 40 and even now that I am 30 I’m starting to feel the physical changes that I didn’t think (or didn’t want to think) could happen to me – how scarily easy it is to put on weight and how fucking hard it is to lose it, wrinkles appearing in the most unappealing places on my face, love handles on my midriff, flabby arms, freckles and uneven skin tone… all the while looking at myself and thinking, “Fuck, I AM getting old.”

But why does the physical stuff bothers me so? Because now I’ve set my goal ten years further, and  in ten years time I still have to work hard to be able to make my dreams come true. I still want to live in Bali, in a remote, fuck-off location faraway from all this madness I am living at the moment. But I also worry whether I still have the energy and the strength to do it, since I am not getting any younger, and there is still so much work to do.

Every single day, when I drive to and from work, the only thing that crosses my mind when I am surrounded by the iron jungle is, “Someday, I’ll get the fuck out of here.”

But when will that someday be? Sometimes when I am feeling insecure and missing Bali so much, I’d nag my husband and ask him, “Do you really think we’d be able to retire there?” and he, the ever optimistic, would answer without fail; “Yes.”

The insecurity comes every now and then when I hear or read about property prices in Bali being so expensive and I can only think in despair, “There’s NO WAY we’d get to save that much money in ten years.”

Being 30 also means facing the fact that my parent is getting old. I’m all used to taking dad to and from hospital when he is having one of his usual illness – tick as preferred; gout, high blood pressure, heart problem, gastric ulcer. And then my mother will wildly appears and stirs problems and make our lives shit all over again.

It’s just so… tiring.

With all the things that are happening, is it any wonder that people choose to forget about their dreams and settle for what they have?

But I think that is the scariest part of getting old – forgetting our dreams, our hopes, the things that motivate and drive us to work hard while we still have our youths – settling for second best.

My dreams are the only things that are keeping me alive and running – even on my worst days, I will always have it in me.

Someday…